


The Floodgates of the Sky

by voleuse



Category: Tomorrow When the War Began - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:26:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>What was left behind was astounding</em>.<br/>Ellie takes stock of the person she used to want to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Floodgates of the Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doranwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doranwen/gifts).



> This story is meant to take place soon after the events of the movie. (I've only seen the movie so far, so this may contradict the canon of the book series. Apologies!)

By the time they reached Hell, the light was fading, molten gold fading into silvery blue. Camouflaging the Land Rover had taken longer than expected, long enough that even Chris had started grumbling, but Ellie had insisted. The sky felt too open over the trees, and she kept thinking of that lone Australian jet, the shriek of metal as it had crashed out of the sky.

They picked their way down the rocks, and Homer convinced Fi to jump down. She yipped as gravel pattered down after her, and then Homer caught her, steadied her. Ellie laughed without thinking, and it sounded too loud, too sharp and abrupt. She swept the back of her hand against her eyes. Robyn touched her lightly, a glance against her right shoulder.

“It’s okay to laugh,” Robyn whispered. She hadn’t said anything at all on their way out. 

Ellie tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “You sure?”

Robyn shook her head, then slid, sideways, the last few feet down to the ground.

*

Ellie snapped awake in a panic, hands scrabbling against the dirt. She was caught in the floodlight, its beam pounding into her skin, burning.

“Hey,” Robyn said. “Ellie, it’s okay.”

Ellie caught her breath, taking a long gulp of air as she curled in her sleeping bag. She opened her eyes and blinked at the sunlight.

Robyn was crouched next to her. Ellie sat up, clearing the night’s air from her throat. The other sleeping bags were empty, crumpled. A wisp of smoke was curling up from the remnants of a fire. Ellie looked back at Robyn.

“To make breakfast,” Robyn explained. “We put it out after a bit—didn’t want the smoke to draw attention.” She sat then, folding her legs under her, setting a book on her knees. Ellie stared at it for a second; it was a Bible.

“Thank you,” Ellie murmured. She looked up, met Robyn’s gaze. “I don’t remember if I said that, before. Thank you. You saved us.”

Robyn shrugged. She laced her fingers together and settled them in her lap. “I couldn’t,” she said, then paused. “I wish,” she started, then stopped again. She took a breath. “It was awful. They didn’t even know I was there.”

Ellie reached out, rested her fingers against the whitened knuckles of Robyn’s hands. “You saved us,” she murmured again.

“Shouldn’t I feel sorry?” Robyn whispered. Ellie watched a tear trace its way down the bridge of her nose. “Or, or ashamed?”

Ellie thought back to that girl, the burns mottling her face. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know what to feel about anything.”

“Yeah.” Robyn shifted her hands, clutched Ellie’s fingers like a child might. 

A whoop sounded out, breaking the peace of the morning. Ellie groaned. “Homer!”

Robyn smiled.

*

Under the cover of the trees, they slowly learned not to duck when the Coalition’s jets screamed past them. If the fire was out, if they were already sprawled in the shadows, they could breathe. Homer was teaching Chris how to hunt rabbit, and Lee used tree branches to rake the clearing in the mornings.

Fi never volunteered to skin the rabbit, while the others took their turns. One day, though, as Ellie and Robyn were sketching out a calendar on the south side of a boulder, Fi skipped up to them, beaming. She’d developed calluses on her palms, finally. Robyn clasped Fi’s hands in her own. “They’re lovely,” she said. 

Ellie set down the burnt twig they’d been using as a pencil. She rubbed her sooty fingers against the boulder. “We should try fishing again.”

Fi groaned, and Robyn clapped her hands.

*

Before she…left, Corrie had loaded a box’s worth of books into the Land Rover. There were all sorts of things in the box: dusty Victorian novels, crinkle-covered Harlequins, and two ponderous biology textbooks. A few weeks after they’d been staying in Hell, though, Homer had found four maps, folded crookedly inside a beaten-looking copy of _March_. Two of them were world maps, one of them scribbled over with highlighters. One of them was just Wirrawee, and one of them was a detailed military map of Australia.

Ellie kneeled, bending over the Australian map as Homer spread it flat on the ground. His hands hovered against the edges of it, barely skimming the paper. Ellie touched the tiny dot of Wirrawee, and then the tiny crosshatch where the bridge used to be. A hand pressed gently against her shoulder, then Lee was kneeling next to her. 

“We slowed them down,” he said, his gaze trained on the tip-tap of her finger against the marking. 

Ellie shook her head. “You’ve seen the lights, same as I have.” She rocked back onto her heels. “They’re still there.”

Lee looked up at her, then at Homer. “We’ll need more supplies soon,” he said. His voice was almost monotone, aside from a tremble at the end. 

Homer looked at Ellie, and she nodded. “Not yet, though,” she said. “Tonight, we’ll count the lights.”

*

Robyn woke Ellie for watch. Ellie tied her hair back, then reached for the mug of tea Robyn offered her, still steaming from the thermos. “All quiet?” she asked.

“Only two jets, past midnight,” Robyn replied. “One helicopter above town.” She set the thermos down, chafed her hands together as she straightened. “The fairgrounds are still bright. Three ships came into the bay.”

Ellie nodded, mentally aligning the new information. “Thanks, Robyn.”

“Ellie,” Robyn said. “I’ll sit with you. If that’s all right.”

“Yeah.” She frowned. “Are you all right?”

Robyn shrugged. “Sometimes,” she glanced around at the others, still slumbering. Homer snuffled in his sleep, then rolled onto his side. “Sometimes,” she continued, _sotto voce_ , “when I start to fall asleep, I can hear, you know, before. See them. And I can’t sleep.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ellie said. She reached out, caught one of Robyn’s hands and squeezed. “I’d like the company.”

Far in the distance, a quiet thrum-thumping began. They froze, and Ellie held her breath. _One. Two. Three_. By seventeen, the sound faded.

“Two helicopters,” Robyn corrected.

“Yeah.” Ellie tried to smile. “We’ll need more tea.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title and summary are adapted from Erika Meitner’s poem, [_And After the Ark_](http://plumepoetry.com/2012/09/and-after-the-ark-by-erika-meitner/).


End file.
